A Day of Flying

The day broke early, sunny, and full of promise. I was flying to Detroit via Washington, DC. My flight to Washington was at noon, but my sister has instilled in me a fear of being late to the airport. I also wanted to stop by work to see if I had missed anything when I closed the night before. I left my house around 6am, and arrived at the store just after 6:30. The sun was already up and the day was warm. I talked to Luis and he said everything looked good, so I grabbed some breakfast and headed to the airport.

After the train ride to 125th Street and an uneventful bus ride to the airport, I disembarked and lit a cigarette before going into the building. I used the automated check-in console, and after searching my name, it said, "There is an earlier flight, but there is not an earlier connecting flight from Washington, DC. You will arrive in Detroit at the original planned time. Do you want it?" I said no. Another question popped up, "First-class may be available. Do you want it?" I said no again. I thought that both of these options would cost money, and I didn't want to support the airlines any more than necessary. I went through security without incident, and sat in the waiting area. I had about two and a half hours until my flight so I pulled out a book. As I sat there reading, I began to think. I went over to the desk and explained, "The computer asked if I wanted to go to Washington on the earlier flight. Is that option still available?"

"Yep, you can go on that flight," the agent said.

"How much will that cost me?" I asked.

"There is no cost...hold on, two people in first class have not checked in yet. You might get first class."

I stood off to the side and watched everyone load onto the plane. When the last person got on, I went back to the agent. He changed my boarding pass and told me I would be in seat 1A. I took my seat and waited for my steak dinner. Before take-off I was offered a soda, and in flight, I never saw her. It was a 35-minute flight, so maybe she didn't have time to come back. But, I did miss my individual package of peanuts. The seat was much bigger, and I was the second person off the plane, so ultimately, it was a nice flight.

When I arrived in Washington, DC, I decided to ask about an earlier connecting flight to Detroit. The agent told me that there was, but they were departing in five minutes. I found the gate and found that the plane had backed away from the gate. The agent had put me on that earlier flight, so I had to make sure that I had a seat on the original flight. While I waited in line, I watched as upset customers dealt with the agents, and was so glad that I was on vacation with no real deadlines. One girl who had missed the same flight I was trying to switch to said, "I'm 17, I can't sit around an airport for six hours." I thought to myself that if she wanted to stay out all night, she would probably use the same argument. Something like, "I'm 17, not 12! I should be able to do anything I want!" Another gentleman, retired, was returning to Bangor, Maine after visiting with his son and grandchildren. He also was waiting to talk to an agent, but not in any hurry. We had a nice chat while waiting, and waiting , and waiting.

After I spoke to an agent to make sure I was scheduled on my original flight, I realized I had five hours to wait. I went to the Metro and took the train into Downtown Washington, DC. The last time I was in DC was sometime around 1996, so I had no idea where I was going or how to get there. I figured out how to go to the White House and walked that way. I walked past the Treasury Building and to the White House. I noticed a girl with a video camera narrating, saying, "protesters at the White House...." It was a line of kids with poster boards. Each had a couple words on it. The phrase was a verse, If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14. Hardly a protest, in my book, but some might see it otherwise, I guess.

I took a few pictures, and called Danny. He asked if I could have a few words with Obama to see if I could get papers for him. While we were on the phone, six or eight motorcycles, two police SUV's and two black limosines sped past. I hung up and snapped a picture, thinking it might be Obama. I walked around the White House and took pictures from the south side. I continued back toward the Metro station. On the first floor of the Commerce Building, there is a White House visitors center. I went in and looked around at some of the displays.

I went over to a National Park Ranger and asked a few questions. Do you think that was Obama in the motorcade about 15 minutes ago? (Yes, he's been in and out of here all day. It drives us crazy when he does that.) Do they still do tours of the White House? (Yes, with a 4-6 month lead time and thru contact with your member of Congress.) What kind of ID do they ask for? (I'm not sure, but they will tell you, then run the information thru the State Department and the Department of Homeland Security.) I explained why I was asking, and she said that Danny would be placed on a Do Not Admit list. She went on to tell a couple stories of people who had applied to go into the White House, were approved, and then arrested because of their three outstanding arrest warrents, or the fact that they were a German spy during World War II and had escaped from prison. The moral of the story is do not try to tour the White House if you have any arrest warrents or have done anything that they might find out about. It's the Federal government. They know everything. She did tell me tho, that the White House is the only building that has this restriction. The Capitol and all the monuments are open to everyone.

I left the Commerce Building and worked my way back to the Metro station. While waiting for the train to take me back to the airport, someone asked if this train went to Arlington. I was able to answer her, and was proud of that. Incidentally, I gave her the correct answer. I got back to the airport with plenty of time to spare, so I had some lunch and waited for my flight. For this flight, we had to get on a bus and ride out to the plane. As we arrived, we realized that the people on the plane had not yet disembarked. People mumbled and complained, but I noticed that it didn't speed up the disembarkation and resetting of the plane. A little girl behind me asked "What are those helicopters doing?" I looked over and saw three helicopters flying kind of low. They flew around the Washington Monument and went low behind it. I saw Obama leave the White House earlier, and now he was very possibly returning. I thought that was kind of cool.

On this flight, my seat was 12D. Row 13 was the restroom. I went from the highest of the high-first class- on the first leg, to the lowest of the low- almost in the restroom. The flight was 65 minutes long, and I was glad to arrive in Detroit.

I am here for an annual family reunion this weekend. I didn't make it last year, and am really looking forward to this year's shindig.